The Triumph Of Our Tired Eyes - Silver Mt. Zion

Sisters and Brothers,

We have surely lost our way.

In strip malls full of cancer,

And a pathetic rain.

Mother, sweet mother,

Please don’t discipline your hands.

Just kiss me in the morning,

In your dirtiest pants.

We will find our way.

We will find our way.

There is beauty in this land,

But I don’t often see it.

There is beauty in this land,

But I don’t often feel it.

People are flowers,

Musicians are Cowards!

Let’s argue in the kitchen,

For hours and hours.

Tomorrow is a travesty,

Tomorrow should be ours.

Musicians are Cowards!

Musicians are Cowards!

Musicians are Cowards!

Musicians are Cowards!

Musicians are Cowards!

Musicians are Cowards!

Musicians are Cowards!

Musicians are Cowards!

The soldiers with their specialists,

And the pigs with their guns cannot stop,

The lost ones and the desparate ones and the driven ones.

The soldiers with their cigarettes,

And the pigs with their guns cannot stop,

The lonesome ones and the desparate ones and the smart ones.

So come on friends,

To the barricades again.

So come on friends,

To the barricades again.

So come on friends,

To the barricades again.

So come on friends,

To the barricades again.

We will find our way,

We will find our way.